


Zero to Hero

by Pyriphlegethons



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Blood and Violence, E rating won't start for a few chapters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Metahumans, Mutants, Superheroes, Superpowers, a lot of aftercare, and im still hashing things out so it may not be so bad, bc that wont happen for a bit longer, because truthfully i'm not that into marvel, but I want yall to know its gonna get violent, heavily leaning into the DC hero stuff, i grew up on DC so i understand it better than Marvel, i took the graphic violence tag out for now, just forewarning, some sensitive themes, sorry folks im horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyriphlegethons/pseuds/Pyriphlegethons
Summary: Crime was at an all time high, and the city needed a hero to protect it.





	1. Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all! So, I've always wanted to do a superhero fic... and because I've hit a bit of a roadblock with my sheith metal au, I decided I may as well crank out some of my ideas for superhero au. Sorry to everyone waiting on metal au to update, but I promise I'm working on it! slowly but surely!
> 
> I'm not all too familiar with Marvel (I know, shocking!) so a lot of what I write is gonna have some more influence from DC. I grew up on Batman and Justice League, so naturally I have to rep my bias lmao...... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!
> 
> Ships will be incorporated in later chapters. It's gonna be mainly sheith, but allurance is going to be frequently occurring as well!

7 Years ago.

October 31st, 20XX.

Takashi Shirogane, age 21.

 

Shiro was twenty-one and living his life to its fullest. He was at a Halloween party at some frat house, doing shots and flirting with the cute boys who were strutting around in their skimpy costumes, playing a game of cat and mouse with them before getting a moment alone to dance. He was young and working his ass off in school, so he deserved a break! What was more relaxing than drinking until he felt like he was walking on air, and getting some nice ass in his bed before the night was over?

 

Shiro was tailing a pretty little thing, giggling as the boy wrapped Shiro around his finger and got him near the kitchen before they finally moved in on each other. They cracked open two beers and swayed drunkenly and stupidly to the music, before a hand was on Shiro’s shoulder, pulling him back.

 

“The fuck you doing with my man?” The large guy said. Shiro couldn’t see hi face all too well, what, with being totally smashed and all. “Fuck out of here, Shirogane. You’ve been doing nothing but tryna get your dick wet since the party started. Everyone’s getting sick of it.”

 

“Welllll,” Shiro started, slurring because of the near poisonous amount of alcohol in his system, “maybe you shhhhhould ask all the pretty boys what they think, huh?” He laughed. “I back off when told, y’know.” He took a long swig from his drink, before he felt two hands pushing on his chest. “Bro.” Shiro hiccupped, and felt a pair of smaller hands on his arm to keep him from tumbling backwards.

 

“Jesus, Mikey. Cut it out.” The soft voice of the cute boy beside him was drawing Shiro’s attention away from the _actual_ thing he should be concerned with. “We broke up, remember?”

 

Shiro giggled stupidly as the listened to the two ex-lovers bicker, a small crowd gathering in the kitchen. He finished off his beer, groaning sadly when no more than a single drop met his tongue. “Hey, man, sorry to cut you off, but can you hand me another -” He was interrupted by a hand, no, a _fist_ against his nose. He tumbled back, this time actually falling. The smaller boy beside him was nearly shrieking at he yelled at Shiro’s antagonizer, which only served to worsen the now horrible mood Shiro was in.

 

If it was a fight this dude wanted, a fight he was gonna get. Shiro got up on his feet, swaying uneasily as he lifted his hands up and into white-knuckled fists. Fucking a pretty twink honestly wasn’t worth this trouble, and once Shiro got a few hits in, he planned on heading home and conking out for a couple of days. He took a step forward, ignoring the way the crowd around them were picking and teasing Shiro for not even being able to keep his eyes fully open, before he swung at the big guy before him. His hand landed almost pathetically weak against his stomach, but strangely enough, everyone around him were gasping as the man flew across the kitchen.

 

Staring, Shiro sobered up real quick. His vision cleared a bit as he stared at his hand, which wasn’t even a little bit sore. “What the fuck.” He whispered to himself. He had no idea what was happening. He had _never_ been able to do that before. The guy on the floor was clutching his stomach, and someone was on the phone calling an ambulance. Shiro couldn’t believe what was happening. He looked around panickedly, seeing fear filled eyes staring in his direction. He needed to leave.

 

So he left.

 

Shiro ran and ran until his legs couldn’t move anymore. Which, took surprisingly long. He sat down at a bench in the park and just stared at his own hands for god knows how long. He couldn’t believe he did that. He punched a guy so hard he _flew_ across a room, was _bleeding_ and going to the _hospital_. What if he killed him? What if…?

 

Sirens wailed past the park as Shiro was thinking all of the things that may go wrong because of what he did. He still wasn’t even sure what happened. There was no way he could… be a metahuman, right? There were usually outside factors that caused strange powers in otherwise normal people. Shiro never had powers. He came from your average family, completely standard and _not metahuman._

 

Disbelief and some fear pulsed through Shiro’s veins as he reached down a plucked a sizeable stone from below the park bench. It was smooth and fit nicely in his palm. He squeezed his hand around it, gradually adding more pressure, before the heard it crack and felt it crumbling against his skin. He was strong. Unusually strong. Did he always have this power? Was it repressed? Did he get bit by something radioactive or contaminated with black matter? What was happening to him?

 

He dusted the stone off his hand and stood back up. He needed to sleep, pretend this didn’t happen. Maybe when he woke up he’d realize this was all a dream and nothing weird had happened. He hadn’t sent someone from school to the hospital. He didn’t have super strength. Takashi Shirogane was your average, everyday honor student.

 

***

 

As it turned out, Takashi Shirogane was not your average, everyday honor student. He did have super strength. And, as he came to realize, also had a lot of stamina and high endurance. Shiro had to come to grips with his new, secret power once he got a call from authorities that Mikey from the party was pressing charges against him for the injury that one not-so-pathetic punch inflicted on his ribs.

 

He supposed it wasn’t _secret_ , but he wouldn’t openly tell anyone about it. Shiro wanted to keep his power a secret. The city had their fair share of metas and mutants, both good and bad, and Shiro didn’t want to be lumped in with them. He wanted to live his life as your average, everyday, secretly-a-metahuman honor student.

 

Except, two years later, Shiro didn’t have that luxury anymore. He had just graduated from school and was offered a job by his close friend’s father. Being an engineer had its perks, and Shiro loved to tinker and mess with the airplanes that came into the Holt Air shop. The commute from home was short, and Shiro was happy with his hours and pay.

 

While on his morning jog on his only day off work, Shiro couldn’t help but feel like something was off in the air. He moved uneasily through his usual route, glancing around as cars drove past him like nothing weird was about to happen. Huh. Shiro stopped at a crosswalk, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head when some rain began to pat down on his head. No one was around, yet he felt that nagging feeling like someone was behind him, or like something _bad_ was about to happen. The light turned red, and Shiro was allowed to continue through the crosswalk.

 

That is, until a car sped through the red light and slammed into oncoming traffic.

 

Shiro watched as the offending vehicle completely _exploded_ upon impact. Two other cars were flipped onto their sides, people scrambling to try and escape the fire that was quickly creeping inside. Civilians hung out their windows, some stepped out to watch, helplessly, and others pulled out their phone to call authorities or to record the stomach turning accident.

 

Now wasn’t the day to be your average, everyday, mechanic.

 

Now was the day Shiro needed to be a hero.

 

He tugged the drawstrings on his hoodie just enough to keep part of his face covered before he ran in on strong legs; which only shook a _little_ bit with anxiety and fear. What if he made it worse? What if he couldn’t help them in time? The fire was spreading, people were screaming, but _no one_ was trying to help him. Shiro couldn’t worry about the what-ifs. He needed to worry about the _cans._

 

Shiro _can_ save them. He _can_ do this.

 

Placing one foot on the tire of one of the cars, he leaned down and jammed superhumanly strong hands into one of the partially shattered door windows. He pulled as strong as he could, willing himself to _do it, save them!_ At like popping the lid off a jar, the door came flying off.

 

“Are you okay?!” Shiro called, reaching inside and pulling out two little girls before he landed a powerful kick to the inner part of the car’s roof, leaving a heavy dent. One more kick, and the roof was off completely. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?!” He yanked back the driver’s seat, forcing the buckle off with a single tug and managing to pull the woman from the seat. He face was bruised and bloodied from the impact of the airbag, a well as being jostled and slammed against the window. She was unconscious, but breathing, and that was all Shiro needed to feel comfortable with moving to the other vehicle. Sirens were wailing, growing closer as Shiro repeated the same steps with the second car. Thankfully, there was only one passenger, and he was with minor injury.

 

Shiro stared at the final car. The one that was up in flames, flipped on its back and charred. He didn’t know if he could get inside, but he would be damned if he wasn’t about to try.

 

Authorities arrived the second Shiro punched a hole through the passenger door. He effortlessly tore it off, having fire billow into his face and momentarily distracting him as he shielded himself with his arm. This was going to be hard. Once the initial burst of flames calmed down, Shiro leaned in and saw a woman upside down and unconscious in the driver’s seat. She was being crushed under the airbag, the seat, and her own body which was crumpled toward the roof. Being upside down for as long as she was, Shiro worried about blood flow to her brain and lack of oxygen. He needed to get her out.

 

Paramedics were treating the rescued people, and firefighters were on either side of Shiro, trying their best to help him with the car. “We can’t reach her like this.” Shiro panted and coughed as he pulled away from the car. “Too much fire, it needs to be put out!” In his attempt to help, authorities pushed him out of the way so they could take control of the situation. Shiro tried repeatedly to get back in, to try and help, but he kept being forced away.

 

Some anxiety and fear bubbled up into his system as he watched the flames get bigger and bigger, consuming the vehicle before it yet again, exploded. Metal parts flew in every which way, and Shiro heard shouts and screams as everyone not inside their vehicles ducked to avoid being hit with flaming bits of shrapnel.

 

Shiro, however, was not so lucky.

 

The blazing hot cut of metal across his face was a wakeup call for him. Shiro held his bleeding face as a paramedic ran to his side, forcing him into an ambulance without saying _one thing_ about his attempts and successful rescues of four people. It was like no one saw him tear apart those cars, pull those children out to safety, _risk his life_ to get to the woman before her car exploded. It was like no one cared about his efforts.

 

What kind of hero got treated like a nuisance?

 

***

 

Shiro saw himself on the news later that same day, while sitting in his hospital bed with stitches along the bridge of his nose. His back was to the camera, so no one could even hope to get a glance at his face. The story was called _A New Hero?_ Simple and almost unbearably plain. However, Shiro couldn’t say he was entirely upset that he was getting news coverage. That just meant that someone, somewhere, recognized him as a _hero._ That was gratifying enough in its own right.

 

He made a phone call to Sam Holt, letting him know about his injury and how he wasn’t allowed to work on any of the planes until he was healed. It was all desk work for the next few weeks, it seemed. Shiro sighed softly as he was given a lecture about keeping himself safe in times of crisis, like at the car crash sit. Sam had even said _don’t be a hero_ , as if Shiro didn’t already break that rule. Well, what Sam didn’t know couldn’t kill him, right?

 

Shiro was sent home after a few more check ups and being prescribed a bottle of painkillers. He came back every week to have a nurse check the healing progress, remove a stitch here and there, and within a month the bridge of his nose was scarring up and healed, save for a few superficial scabs from time to time. It was tender and soft, so Shiro kept some gauze over it until he felt it wouldn’t somehow rip open at the slightest touch.

 

It wasn’t for another year that Shiro even considered trying to go out of his way to help anyone the way he did on that rainy day. The news questioned where the mystery hero was for about two months before the world forgot about him entirely. In that year, however, Shiro would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. He just didn’t put himself out there. How could he, when he didn’t even have a suit?

 

That problem was fixed on Shiro’s 24th birthday.

 

Matt had thrown Shiro a small party at Holt Air, partly to celebrate his birthday, and partly to celebrate that Shiro’s birthday happened to actually land on a leap year! A _real_ birthday deserved something special, Matt had said later on when the party winded down and he decided to head home with his best friend, so they could relax for the evening.

 

“I got you something special, and I _really_ wanted to show you in private.” Matt explained, once the two of them were inside Shiro’s modest and simple apartment. “This isn’t something I could just show anyone, okay? I’m the only one at the shop who knows about you being a meta, and about the car crash thing. I couldn’t give you this with them all around you.” He went on as he placed the box on top of Shiro’s kitchen table. “Well? Take a look.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Shiro nodded and lifted the top off of the bow and wrapper clad box. Inside was some folded clothes, a few metallic… _things_ , that Shiro didn’t recognize, and at the bottom of them all was a helmet. He looked up at Matt, eyes wide as everything began to click together. Shiro had doodled (poorly) what he imagined his superhero costume would look like in the time he was healing from his injury. He scrapped it, of course, because how could he ever be a hero?

 

As it turned out, Matt thought Shiro could be a hero. He even turned his horrible sketches into an costume.

 

“Being as strong as you are, I took the liberty of making your suit as reinforced as possible. You can carry it easily.” Matt smiled fondly as Shiro admired the cloth, sewn in with as many shock-absorbing fibers and padding as possible while still managing to keep its almost spandex-like stretch. “You like?”

 

“I _love._ ” Shiro said, voice soft. “When did you find the time to even make this?” He asked, staring at the vibrant orange that colored the shoulder, hips, and knee areas of the suit, places that were clearly designed to give him free range of movement. There was a black A-shape along the sturdy chest piece, and the rest of the suit was an off-gray color that seemed to pull it all in.

 

“Well…” Matt lifted up the helmet, clearly with some struggle, despite being the one who built it. “I spent every day since I first saw you doodling it. I knew you had what it took to be a hero, to be someone everyone could put their trust in.” He handed the helmet to Shiro, watching his friend slip it on his head. It covered his hair, eyes, and the scar over his nose. Perfect for hiding his identity. “You always seemed so scared of your powers, but I admire it. It isn’t every day that I get to meet an actual metahuman.”

 

Smiling, Shiro looked back down to the suit. “One sec. I’m gonna try this on.” He tried to hide his excitement as he walked away, but the bounce in his step did not go unnoticed by Matt. The suit slipped on easily, and for all the padding and reinforcement that Matt said he put into it, it was fairly lightweight on his body. The black A-shape, which truthfully looked more like an upside down V, stretched over his chest, and Shiro swelled with some childish pride as he admired himself.

 

As suspected, all the orange colored pieces of fabric were thinner and easier to move. The black symbol on his chest, the black on his knuckles and feet, were all hard and had a cool metallic feeling to them. Clearly, meant to hurt and absorb shock. Shiro turned from side to side, and _wow_ did that suit make his ass look _amazing._ The mask was an excellent touch, as well. Almost entirely black, save for the gray piece over his nose and the back of his head. He really, _really_ looked like a hero.

 

Shiro stepped back out to the kitchen, turning around in a dramatic spin as Matt whistled and clapped his hands when Shiro gave a quick bow. “Looks good on you! I’m glad I got your measurements right.” Matt watched as Shiro fiddles with the metal trinkets that also came in the box, and reached out to take one from his friend’s hands. “These are made to track the integrity of your suit. The more damage it takes, you’ll be able to see in this screen.” He explained, pressing a button and lighting it up with a pretty blue glow. “You slip it on your wrist and it can read all your vitals, too.”

 

Doing as instructed, Shiro slipped on the bracelet - which, really, was more like a small gauntlet. He pressed a button on the side of it, able to toggle through all the options and screens. “The suit, my health, what are the rest?” He asked as his eyes met three blank screens.

 

“A radio, so you can listen in on police reports and personal radios. The little dial on the side lets you tune it, and this is a volume button.” Matt explained. “The next is more like a walkie-talkie. I figured you would need someone to look after you while you’re out fighting crime, right? I have a smartwatch that I took apart and added in a compatible system for yours. Only I can hear whatever you say to me when you use the comm system.”

 

“Oh, nice.” Shiro looked blown away by the technology sitting on his wrist. He flipped through all the screens again, before landing back to the last screen. “And what about this one? Was there something else you added into it, or is it a work in progress?”

 

“That,” Matt started, chest puffed out with pride as he lifted up the sister gauntlet, which was a bit clunkier than the one Shiro was currently fawning over. “Connects to _this.”_ He pressed a button on the top of the gauntlet, which shot out a small piece of metal that stuck to the wall behind the kitchen table. “It’s a microchip, so you can track bad guys if they seem like they’re about to get away.”

 

Shiro glanced down at the screen, which suddenly lit up once the tracker had attached to the wall. A small arrow blinked in its direction, which then disappeared once Matt plucked it from the wall and pressed the tiny switch at the underside. “Dude. This is crazy, how- how the _hell_ did you even _manage_ to make this stuff _?_ ” Shiro asked, smile wide as he slipped the rest of his tech on, enjoying the weight they put on his wrists. “I can’t believe you spent so much time on this, for me… Matt, you have no idea what this means to me. This is seriously the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

 

“Anything for the best guy I’ve ever known.” Matt smiled. “Hey, you got the weekend off, right? Why not take this puppy for a spin? I’ll make sure to stay close in my car.” He gave his eyebrows a little wiggle, and nudged Shiro’s side.

 

“I…” Looking down, Shiro eyed over what he could of his outfit. He went to the gym five out of the seven days in a week, he jogged every morning, he was in peak condition… so why not? He could handle almost anything that came his way! “Yes. I want to make a name for myself. I want to prove that I can do more than just save some people from a car crash.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Matt clapped his hands on Shiro’s shoulders, urging him toward the door. “Get a hoodie on, take that helmet off, and we can start our stake out for crime!”

 

***

 

Crime was at an all time high, and the city needed a hero to protect it.

 

Luckily, Shiro had been at this game for the last four years.

 

He was sprinting down the street, trying to catch up with a speeding car that just took off with as much money they could get from the bank before authorities arrived. Shiro was clad in his suit, his heavy footfalls landing hard against the street as he tried his hardest to push himself _faster._ Sadly, even he couldn’t outrun a car.

 

_“Atlas, I’m pulling around the corner in the next hundred feet.”_ Matt, or as he preferred to go as in the field, Delta, called from the comms. _“Make sure you jump on the car. I can carry you faster than you can run.”_

 

“Got it.” Shiro nodded, finally starting to pant. A near endless pool of stamina, and yet he was already getting tired. Chasing a speeding car really took a lot out of him. “Delta, I’m nearing your location.”

 

As he spoke, Delta’s car came whipping around a corner with screeching tires. _“In position, Atlas!”_ He said in a sing-songy voice, slowing only enough for Atlas to vault himself onto the hood before he sped back up. _“I take it you put a tracker on them?”_

 

“Naturally.” Atlas smiled, eyes moving down to the screen on his wrist. “They’re _still_ going faster. Good god, aren’t they scared of ramming into another car or something?”

 

_“Chances are, they think they’re invincible like every other criminal in this city.”_ Delta stated, almost sounding bored. _“Wanna grab some coffee after this? This local place opened up down the street from my parent’s place, and they give out free coffee to anyone in their hero suit.”_

 

“Do you know that because you’ve done it?” Atlas asked as he crouched down, readying himself to jump to the car in front of him. “We’ll talk coffee once we’re done with these guys. Just focus on getting a little bit closer.”

 

_“Aye aye, captain!”_ Delta gassed it, speeding up until he was nearly bumper to bumper with the getaway car. _“You ready? I’m gonna ram it.”_

 

Atlas dug the balls of his boots into the hood of the car, waiting for the creaking sound of metal on metal before strong legs launched him forward, landing hard onto the getaway car and watching as Delta slowed down considerably. “Keep as close as you can. The drive is weaving a bit.”

 

_“I bet you I scared the piss out of him.”_ Delta laughed. _“Got it. On standby until you need me to ram them again.”_

 

Atlas inhaled, hands gripping the hood of the car while the driver attempted to shake him off. Not even the suit could prevent a broken bone or two if he fell off, at the speed they were going. He risked a punch, denting the hood deeply and threatening to break through. The car swerved, nearly knocking Atlas on his side before he pounded reinforced knuckles into the dent, reaching inside the car and tugging back the roof when the driver made a sharp turn.

 

_“You good, pal?”_ Delta asked, turning the corner soon after. _“Try breaking the windows, or something! You’ll fall off at this rate!”_

 

“I’ll try.” Atlas groaned as he struggled against the wind pushing him back, not being helped by the weaving and swerving. Laying on his stomach, Atlas reeled back and kicked in the rear window. It shattered entirely under the force and he managed to slip himself through, landing on the backseat with a chuckle. “Made it inside. I do have a gun pointed at me, though.”

 

_“Well? Don’t let him shoot you!”_ Delta said, just as Atlas kicked the gun  out of the man’s hand, neatly shattering his wrist in the process. Atlas lurched forward and gripped the gearshift, pushing it into park before both hands reached over the robber’s chests, bracing them against their seats as the speeding vehicle was forced to stop and roll on its hood. _“Atlas! What if you rolled into something?!”_ Delta chastised him, but what else was there to be done? Atlas wasn’t exactly able to push the men out of the car at the speed they were going.

 

“Don’t worry. I have it under control.” Atlas said, confidently, as he kicked open the driver side door. He was thankful that these robbers knew when to quit, once he broke the first guy’s wrist. They seemed to obediently allow Atlas to pull them out of the car, along with the bags of cash they stole, and hand them over to waiting police. “Officers.” Atlas gave them a small salute with a light chuckle in his voice. “Pleasure doing business with you again. I’ll let you handle the rest.”

 

Delta pulled up, masked face set in a frown as Atlas hopped into the car. “I can’t believe you did something that risky. That isn’t like you, dude.” He waved out to the crowd of people who no doubt were trying to take pictures of Atlas. “You can’t do stuff like that all the time. I know, this was the first, but doing something once usually means you’ll end up doing it again. Someone might get hurt because of a stunt like the one you pulled.”

 

He had a point, even if Atlas didn’t really want to admit it. He _had_ been a little reckless, but this car incident was really pushing it. It could have ended a lot worse, and as the adrenaline ran out, Shiro couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him when Matt started driving. “Sorry. You’re right; I need to keep a more level head.” He fiddled with his comm bangle, noticing how the low battery light turned on. “I promise, Matt, I’ll make sure that I don’t let too loose again. I don’t want to be responsible for an innocent getting hurt.”

 

“I know, Shiro.” Matt turned, smiling at his long time friend. “I believe you wouldn’t do something like that unless you genuinely didn’t think something would go wrong. You’re such an optimist, y’know? I envy you sometimes.”

 

“Trust me, it’s kinda hard to be optimistic when we live in a  city that deals with the amount of crime ours does.” Shiro laughed and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to relax in their beat up car. By the time he opened them again, Matt was pulling into the garage that connected them to their safe house. Four years of saving up money and building state of the art security really paid off sometimes.

 

With the car parked, Shiro and Matt headed to the elevator which was locked by a series of tests. Thumb print, retinal scan, vocal recognition, as well as a quick scan of their comm bangle over the screen finally allowed them inside. Nothing like Holt-certified security!

 

“I’m so beat.” Shiro groaned as he finally took off his helmet and rested his head against the wall, letting Matt press the down button to take them to their hideout. “I hope Hunk knows I ate the last of his instant noodles. I forgot to tell him before we left today.” He ruffled his dark hair, pushing back the fluffy forelock as he chuckled guiltily.

 

“I’m sure he’s already replaced it. We kinda have to keep a good stock of stuff, since we spend so much time here.” Matt hummed when the doors opened. He stepped out, removing the scarf from around his neck and setting it over the back of the worn, used couch. “How’s home base going? Team Punk keeping it together?” He leaned over Hunk’s chair, eyeing the screen in front of him.

 

“Team Punk is thriving, as usual.” Pidge spoke from where she stood at the microwave, the only thing they had to make any sort of food in their base. “I did notice something while you guy were chasing those robbers, though.”

 

“It was more like _I_ noticed it, thank you.” Hunk chimed in, fingers clacking against the keyboard as he zoomed into the large 3D map on his monitor. “The bank that got robbed today is owned by the same guy who owns the bank that got robbed last week.” He zoomed in on another part of the map, as well as a picture of a man with long white hair. “Lotor Daibazaal.”

 

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Matt asked as he stared at the boy on the screen. Smooth brown skin, long white hair, and striking golden brown eyes.

 

“Because his father is Zarkon.” Pidge said around a mouthful of noodles. “You know, the guy running for mayor? He’s also the president and CEO of the federal reserve bank of Garrison City.”

 

“What does this have to do with Lotor and the robberies?” Shiro asked, finally leaning in to take a look over Hunk’s shoulder. “You think Lotor might be hiring people to cover up something?” Shiro watched as Hunk pulled up a few scanned images of police reports on the last set of robbers they had thrown behind bars.

 

“Looks like it.” Pidge said. “Hunk and I think the robberies were a coverup for something else, probably embezzlement. If Lotor is stealing money, people are more likely to point fingers somewhere else if it _looks_ like it’s being stolen by a third party, like these robbers you took down today, and the week before.” She said, using her fork to point at Hunk’s computer screen. “Lotor looks like a victim, Zarkon’s reputation is intact, and both of them are sitting happy on their fat wallets. That is, if Zarkon actually has anything to do with this.”

 

“He made his _son_ branch manager. That’s enough for me to assume they’re working on this together.” Matt laughed incredulously at the mere idea that Zarkon wasn’t somehow involved. “They’ve gotta be using that money for something. I smell a dirty, no good, rotten scheme a-brewing.”

 

“We just need to investigate it more.” Shiro said with his arms crossed over his chest. “We don’t jump the gun on stuff like this. We could land ourselves in deep shit if we act without a solid reason to.” Dark eyes trailed over his teammates faces, one black eyebrow raised. “Got it?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The three said in unison, saluting their team leader with big smiles on their face.

 

“Good. Time to hunker down for the night. Don’t work yourselves too hard, okay? I have work in the morning, so I need to get home.” Shiro placed his heavy helmet on one of the mannequins that sat on the far wall of the hide out, of which there were four in total. Only two were still clad in a suit - the ones belonging to Pidge and Hunk. Shiro dipped into the modest bathroom they had installed when they rented the place out, changing into his street clothes before slapping the rest of his suit onto the mannequin. Matt did the same only a moment later. “Let me know what else you guys find out later. Have a good night, and make sure you get some rest.”

 

“Can do, boss-man.” Pidge called, watching both Matt and Shiro head through the door, which led to a secondary entrance way. “You think Shiro’s gonna want to try and take down _Zarkon_ , of all people? I mean, even if he’s behind this, he’s still got huge influence on the city. It won’t be easy to find enough evidence to get him behind bars.”

 

“I think,” Hunk started, only to be interrupted by a yawn. “I think we need to sit on it, like Shiro said. We can look more into Lotor, then worry about Zarkon. Chances are, Zarkon is just turning a blind eye because it’s his son. Parents are the first to justify their children’s terrible behavior.” He stretched his back, cracking like a glowstick as he did.

 

“But isn’t that just like, make him guilty by omission or something?” Pidge asked, watching Hunk save the files he had amassed and then shut down his computer. “I’m gonna do some more digging tonight, if you’re going home.”

 

“Nuh-uh. Rules are we have to be at the hideout in pairs.” Hunk said. “If you’re staying to do more research, I’m gonna just crash on the couch. I’ll wake up if something bad happens.” Standing up, Hunk waddled with half-asleep legs to the couch before promptly flopping over and passing out within moments of having his head on the throw pillows.

 

Pidge rolled her eyes in amusement, before opening up some of her own files and getting back to work. The rest of her noodles went untouched and grew cold as the hours wore on, before she eventually fell asleep. The rest of her research could wait until tomorrow, or at least until she finished her power nap.


	2. Aurora

4 Years ago.

December 20th, 20XX.

Lance McClain, age 17.

 

Lance wouldn’t ever forget the day he saw that local hero on the news, saving people from a burning car crash. He did what no one else did, what none of those people recording the incident would do. That man was forgotten by social media and news networks only a few short months after the video went viral online, but Lance wouldn’t ever forget. That mysterious man was a  _ hero  _ to him. Because, the man he saved that day was his father. Lance was eternally grateful for that hero for saving his life and letting him come home.

 

Despite it being some time since anyone had even thought of or mentioned the accident, Lance still admired him. He wished, deeply, that he could help people the way that man did. He clearly wasn’t your average Joe, though. He had to have been a meta with that kind of strength. Being a metahuman was something Lance  _ wasn’t. _ Sure, there were heroes from time to time who didn’t have any special abilities or powers, but it definitely gave them an edge if they did.

 

He wanted to be a hero, to be someone to inspire people the same way the mystery man who saved his father inspired him.

 

“Lance, please take some orders and stop texting.” His mother said, interrupting the train of thought he had going. “Your sisters are busy in the kitchen and your brothers had to go out ot the store.” She handed him a notepad and pen, before gently nudging him out of the back room of the family owned restaurant.

 

Nodding, Lance put his phone in his pocket and got to work. He enjoyed helping out with the small restaurant his parents owned, and it also gave him some extra spending money. There was virtually no downside to having this job, aside from not being able to call off since he lived there. He put on a big smile and chatted with customers as he took orders and refilled drinks, and the time passed by quickly.

 

It was getting to be close to evening by the time they slowed down. The restaurant was a pretty popular lunch and dinner destination for the neighborhood, but it was also just enough of a hole in the wall for others to pass by without a second glance to it. Everyone who stopped by were regulars and family friends, people who Lance had seen come by since he was a child. It helped the atmosphere feel less like work, and more fun and relaxing. 

 

Around seven in the evening, Lance had watched a shady looking fellow enter the restaurant. He sat himself down at a table in the corner, and his eyes scanned over the other patrons who were making friendly banter with each other and Lance’s family members. He thought the man was strange, but wouldn’t let that affect how he treated him. He approached with a smile, setting a glass of water on the table before the man and asked for his order.

 

The process was easy, quick, and nothing out of the ordinary. All the man got was a simple appetizer. Lance entered the kitchen with his notepad in hand, and slid the paper over to his sisters, Veronica and Rachel, who were chatting as they plated a sandwich so amazing looking, that it made Lance’s stomach groan noisily. “Just some garlic knots. Nothing spectacular.”

 

Veronica took the paper after handing Lance the plate. “Can do. It’ll just be about five minutes.” She told him, turning to start rolling out some dough in her hands.

 

Lance quickly deposited the sandwich to it’s awaiting customer, who was a happy and kind older woman. She always left a big tip on her bill, and also told Lance he was a handsome boy whenever she was in. He never failed to be filled with childlike glee when someone complimented him.

 

After a few minutes of chatting and grabbing drink refills, Lance headed to the kitchen to retrieve the garlic knots for the last customer still waiting to be served. He got little more than a tired “thanks” out of the man, despite being chipper and bright the entire time he was serving him. Lance didn’t often complain while at work, but he  _ hated _ unfriendly customers. Would it kill him to smile a little?

 

Lance went around working normally until his mother walked back up to him. “Veronica is going to head back home, so I asked her to take you back with her.” She told him. “I know, you only worked for a few hours, but you don’t have to stay now that we’re settling down for the night.”

 

“Oh, alright.” Lance nodded and noticed his older sister approaching him and their mother with Lance’s jacket in her arms. “Thanks, sis.” He threw it on after handing his mother his notepad back, before giving her a quick hug. “I’ll see you when you get home. Don’t work too hard.”

 

They shared a light laugh before Lance and Veronica walked out the door into the cold night. The wind blew the snow and the streets were coated in a layer of white, befitting mid-late December. Lance turned when he heard the door opening and closing behind them again, only to see the quiet, almost rude customer walk out. “You have a nice night, sir.” Lance said in the most friendly voice he could muster, now that was shivering and exposed to the winter chill.

 

Instead of a reply, the man shoved Lance’s chest, causing his legs to slip out from under him and make him fall flat on his back. His head, thankfully, landed on packed snow rather than hard ground, so he only felt disoriented for a moment. Coming to, Lance saw Veronica fighting off the man as he attempted to steal her purse from her, going so far as to pull out a knife and cut the strap away.

 

He was already bolting off when Lance found his footing. Veronica was at his side in a moment, hands on his arms as she checked his snow-covered head and neck for injury. “Are you alright, Lance? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

 

“I’m fine. He didn’t cut you or something, did he?” Lance asked, staring in the direction the purse snatcher had run off in. “We need to get your purse back.”

 

“Lance, it’s fine. I’ll just call the police for now, so get in the car.” Veronica held him back when Lance went to run off, looking tired. “He has a knife, and I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s too cold for you to be running aimlessly until you somehow find him.”

 

“Veronica -” Lance frowned, stepping back and avoiding his sister’s hands as she tried to stop him. “I’m not just gonna  _ let  _ him get away because you told me to. Call the cops if you want, but I’m gonna go find him.” He ran off without waiting for a reply, but he did hear his older sister calling out for him as he went across the street.

 

After about half an hour of searching, alternating between running and walking, Lance decided that, yeah, he probably should have just listened to Veronica instead of running off on his own and trying to be a hero.  _ Hero. _ The word felt a little bitter in his mouth. Yeah, he wanted to be a hero, he wanted to do something good for someone. But, it seemed this wasn’t the way to go about it.

 

Lance reached in his pocket to grab his phone, seeing a few missed calls and unread texts from Veronica. He opened his texts, told her where he was, and waited. He got a new message within a few seconds. Veronica was on her way to get him.

 

He sighed as he put his phone back in his pocket. What did he expect would happen, anyway? Lance wasn’t a meta, a mutant, or whatever else he could think of. He wandered down the back alley he was in, to stand closer to the street so that Veronica could see him when she drove by. However, upon walking down that very alley, he saw his sister’s purse. Picking it up, he saw it was entirely empty aside from some makeup. 

 

The wind had blown snow over any footprints that the man may have left after being in the alleyway, but that didn’t stop Lance’s newly resurrected motivation from making him bolt off down the street, which had to have been the only direction the man could have gone in. As he was running, though, the snow blowing in his eyes made him stop to rub them. His vision was blurry, but he didn’t at all feel tired enough for that to be happening. He blinked a few more times, feeling some irritation in them, before it went away entirely.

 

Opening them again, everything looked a little bit different. He could see the outlines of things inside of building around him, silhouettes of people indoors, and even basements below said buildings. The city area he lived in was full of apartment buildings and shops, all of which crowded in on each other. He felt like everything was in his vision, like he could  _ find  _ this guy. Lance frantically began turning around, looking at everything he could, trying to focus in and out of streets and buildings, but it only served to make his head  _ pound. _

 

Lance rubbed his eyes again when the irritating sensation came back. He still had no idea what it was, what was happening, or  _ why _ it was happening, but that was all stuff he could think of later. It was almost like looking at the map of a city as he ran down the street, seeing everything in a faint blue outline. It was disorienting in a way, but he wouldn’t stop now. 

 

His phone was buzzing in his pocket, but Lance paid it no mind. He just kept running, trying his best to see that movements of shadows wandering back alleys, until he saw two people chatting beside what he assumed was a dumpster. He slowed down, getting closer and hanging around the corner of the building the two men were standing nearest. Lance’s eyes felt dry, tired, like he needed to flush them with eye drops. They burned just enough to make some tears build up as they tried to moisturize themselves.

 

The two men were talking quietly, and Lance could barely hear over the wind blowing in his ears. However, he was confident that one of these men was the guy who stole Veronica’s purse. He knew at least one of them had a knife, too, so he needed to approach this carefully. He tried to get closer to the corner, tried to listen into the conversation they were having.

 

“You got their names?”

 

“I only got one of them. The other girl didn’t leave with her.”

 

“We can always send someone else to pick the other one up. Where’s her stuff?”

 

Lance watched the shadows through the wall intently. Were they stalking his sisters? The man closest to the dumpster was handing the other figure what Lance could only assume was Veronica’s wallet. Her wallet, with her ID inside. Stalkers sure sounded like an accurate word to go with.

 

He saw a third shadow appear, crouching behind the dumpster. Lance wondered for only a moment whom it may be, before they rounded the dumpster and quickly knocked both men down with ease. Lance jumped out as fast as he could, only to see a woman in a mask tying up both of the men’s arms. “Hey, hey! I was supposed to be the big hero tonight!” He groaned and brought the heels of his palms up to rub at his eyes again. “Who even, uh… who are you? A superhero?”

 

The woman looked up at Lance, but her face was obscured by a mask. “Aurora.” She said, with a strangely familiar accent. Maybe Lance had heard of her before. “I think I should be the one asking you who  _ you _ are, shouldn’t I? Why were you hiding?” She approached Lance with confident steps, and somehow that was  _ really  _ attractive.

 

“M-my name is Lance, and my sister got her purse stolen by this guy.” Lance pointed, and wow, where did his  _ Loverboy Lance _ persona go? “I was following him, but then I lost him, now I can see through walls and stuff and, I don’t know! Okay! I don’t know what’s going on right now!” He spoke fast, suddenly out of breath, but the woman made no move to harm or approach him, so that was a relief.

 

“You can… see through walls? Are you a metahuman?” She asked, curiously, as she bent down and searched the snow for Veronica’s wallet. “Have you always been one?”

 

“No, I haven’t always had it. I don’t know where it came from, or like, why it happened, but… It helped me find the guy who stole my sister’s stuff. That’s all that matters to me.” Lance spoke, taking the wallet when Aurora offered it to him. “Can I ask you something, Aurora?” Nervousness bubbled up in his chest as he watched her tap at a little panel on her wrist guard. “How did you become a hero?”

 

Aurora looked back up at Lance, before turning to look back at the men on the ground. “I had a lot of help from other people. I didn’t do it alone. I couldn’t have done it alone.” She said, voice fond and light. “Do you want to become a hero, Lance?”  _ Wow  _ her voice was pretty, and hearing his name said in such a gorgeous accent made Lance almost want to swoon. 

 

“I do.” He said. “I want to help people, and inspire people, and do some good around the city.” Lance wished he could see Aurora’s face, but the chrome face cover was blocking it all. What was she thinking? “Aurora, I-”

 

“Your power seems a little useful.” Aurora interrupted. “You have the heart and drive, too. I can tell that much.” She continued. “I can’t say it’ll work out, but… I have always wanted a sidekick.”

 

_ Sidekick? _ Lance was taken aback by Aurora’s sweet laugh, which stirred his insides up in the strangest way. “I, uh… You want me to be your sidekick?”

 

“I mean, first I need to look into you and learn more about you, Lance.” She said, and it just sounded like she had a smile on her face. Lance bet her face was unlike anyone else’s. Angelic and soft, probably. “I think I could trust you, though.”

 

Weirdly enough, Lance felt like he was in some superhero comic book or movie. When did this  _ ever _ happen in real life? “Please, I’ll commit to training or whatever it is you heroes do! I, I don’t have anything, no weapons or a suit, nothing, but I’ll work my ass off, Aurora. I swear, I’ll work hard.”

 

Another quiet moment passed where Lance could only imagine the face Aurora was making. Police sirens were closing up on the street, though, so Aurora stepped a little closer to Lance and produced a small card from her pocket. “Take this. On Friday, meet me at the Altea Corporations building. Midnight, exactly. Got it?” 

 

Lance nodded hard and fast as he clutched the card in his hands. “Got it.”

 

“Okay. Now get out of here before the police suspect you might be involved with this.” Aurora gave a gentle nudge to Lance’s shoulders, and watched as he quickly removed himself from the alleyway.

 

“Veronica?” Lance said as he  _ finally  _ answered his buzzing phone. “I’m on 10th and - can you  _ please _ stop yelling at me?” He groaned. “I got your wallet. Everything is inside it, your ID and debit card, even some cash. I’m only a few blocks from where I texted you at before. I’m standing in front of the jewelry store on 10th and Kosmo. Yes, I’m fine.” He stared at the card Aurora had given him, smiling fondly. “Some weird stuff happened, but I’m fine.”

 

***

 

Friday, Lance arrived at Altea Corporations. He was a few minutes early, but he was there nonetheless. He wondered, briefly, why Aurora would choose the largest producer of high grade technology in the country, as their meet up place. Unless they were sponsoring her and building her equipment, maybe, but Lance couldn’t say for sure. Aurora had do be making money somehow, and being a hero didn’t really leave her a lot of free time. 

 

A minute before midnight, Lance made his way across the street. He was standing in front of the main entrance the moment his clocked rolled over to midnight. Seconds later, the doors were sliding open and Aurora was beckoning him inside. “Glad you came on time.” She said, locking the doors behind them before leading Lance to the elevator at the end of the lobby. “There’s a few things I want to get out of the way before anything happens tonight. Firstly, Altea Corporations makes all of the gear I use out in the field. Secondly, I do have a team in the background who assist me over a communications radio. Lastly, you’ll need to fill out several contracts with Altea Corp. if you want to work with us as part of the team.”

 

“Wow. That was a lot.” Lance said as he watched Aurora press the last button on the elevator, sending them down to the lowest floor. “Uh, I think I can do the contract. If it like, just me saying I’ll work for them in exchange for help and stuff?”

 

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes, I suppose that’s a simple way of putting it.” Aurora told him. Lance felt a little prideful at guessing why they were meeting here, and smiled as he leaned against the wall of the elevator as they descended. “Basically, you’ll need to work for the company, you’ll need to have free time to devote to fighting crime, and you’ll need to give us access to a lot of personal information. This is a multimillion dollar company and we need to be able to keep tabs on you and make sure you don’t plan to cross us.” She said. “They do the same for me. Don’t take it too personally.”

 

Lance nodded, trying to wrap his brain around it. “I guess it isn’t  _ too  _ outlandish. No prob. I can free up my time, and I bet my family will be stoked to know I’m working for Altea.”

 

“You tell no one about the training, or being a hero.” Aurora said. “You need to keep your identity a secret.”

 

“I know that, Aurora.” Lance chuckled. “I’m not gonna blow my cover. I wanna be a hero, and that’s all it is. I don’t need to tell people who I am to feel happy for doing a good deed.” 

 

Aurora turned to look at him, before stepping out he opening doors. “Being a hero is a really thankless job, Lance.” She started after a moment. “You’ll want to quit sometimes. You’ll wonder why no one seems to understand that what you do for them is in their best interests. You’ll hate being a hero sometimes, but you need to keep reminding yourself that you do this for a reason. You’re making the world better every day, even if sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.”

 

“You sound like you’ve been through it, huh?” Lance asked. He felt he could empathise, despite not fully knowing the extent of the situations Aurora had been through. Lance always knew that being a hero wouldn’t be an easy job, but he was determined to do this. He knew, deep down, that this was what he was meant for. 

 

“Anyways…” Aurora stopped walking and turned to Lance. “You said you can see through walls, right? This corridor has a hidden room in it. I want to know if you can find it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and wow, Lance could see the outline of muscle in Aurora’s arms. It did something to his heart.

 

“Well…” Lance rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around. “I haven’t been able to… turn it on since I tried finding that guy. I went home, went to bed, and when I woke up, it wouldn’t turn back on.” He explained. 

 

“Your first test is to find the room. You have fifteen minutes. After that, I’m calling this off and you can go home.” Aurora sounded impatient, like she felt  _ stupid _ for letting Lance down here.

 

It hurt Lance’s chest. He wouldn’t fail now. Not when he was so close.

 

“Okay. I can, I can try, Aurora.” He said, before taking a deep breath and concentrating as hard as he could. Lance closed his eyes, tried to clear his mind. When he opened them, he looked around. It didn’t seem like anything was different, until he saw something curious further down the corridor. “Is it… down at the end, over there?” He asked while pointing. 

 

“I don’t know. Lead me there.” Aurora said with a shrug, and followed Lance’s hesitant steps. “What does it look like when you see through walls?” She asked.

 

“It’s kinda like looking at blueprints.” Lance replied. “Everything beyond the walls has this different color to it, with bright blue outlines. I don’t really know how else to describe it.” He walked up to the wall he was sure led to the hidden room, and set his hand on the center of it. “It’s behind here.”

 

“Excellent work, Lance.” Aurora happily nodded and pressed on an invisible keypad, before gesturing for Lance to step inside before her. “Coran! Romelle! He passed the initiation test.” 

 

Turning, Lance was faced with Aurora removing her chrome mask, and revealing the face of the most beautiful woman Lance had ever seen. His eyes went wide, cheeks warm, and even his knees felt like they were going to buckle. “Wait.  _ Wait a second. _ You’re- You’re  _ Allura Altea? _ ” He asked, almost in disbelief. This woman was the daughter of the richest man in the  _ country. _ The man who  _ literally owned the building he was inside of, right now. _

 

“I am.” Allura smiled and let her flowing, white locks out of the bun she had them held up in. “My father and I were both born metahumans. I asked him to help me become a hero when I was sixteen, and now I’m here.” She said. “I suppose now you can know all of this, since you’ll be trained as my sidekick starting from today on.” She stepped ahead of Lance, hand waving to follow her as two other people approached them. “This is Coran, and this is Romelle. They’ll help train you to fight.”

 

A redheaded man with a large moustache happily reached out to shake Lance’s hand, eyes nearly sparkling. “Lance! Good to see you’re not some flop. Allura’s been needing a partner, and you don’t have any idea how happy all of us were when she told us she was interested in taking someone under her wing.” He continued to shake Lance’s hand until he felt numb in his fingers. “I’m Coran, by the way. Lovely to meet you.”

 

“Allura really is picky about who she lets help her on her hero duties.” The blonde woman, who Lance gathered by process of elimination was Romelle, said. “You should feel lucky she saw something in you to let you down here.”

 

Nodding, Lance finally freed his hand from Coran’s grasp and turned to Allura. “This really is such an honor. I’m not sure what all I can do to help, but I promise I will work hard and do my best. I want to be a hero, and I want to help you.”

 

She smiled in response, and it was positively breathtaking. “Before we can start, I’ll need you to sign some of those papers and contracts I told you about in the elevator. From there, we can work a schedule out for you and get you a job here.” Allura said.

 

From there, Lance was led to an overservation room through a door off to the side. It was full of computers, monitors, and a window that oversaw the training room. Lance was sat down, and he filled out all the documents after a brief explanation of everything. Essentially, Lance’s identity was now owned by Altea Corporations. Allura had explained that they were now in charge of getting his name out, bettering his reputation and subsequently, their own. Lance would be given free custom equipment, benefits, and even his own  _ apartment _ if he wanted one.

 

“All of this free stuff has to come with a catch, right?” Lance asked, after filling out the last document. “Like, am I gonna owe you guys money? Are you gonna let my secret identity out if I wanna leave? What’s the sitch here?”

 

Coran, Allura, and Romelle all looked to each other for a brief moment, before Allura gave a slow nod. “Basically.” She said. “Your job is to keep the city safe under a name we promote. If you leave, we can’t be associated with your name anymore. If you leave before you  _ do _ make a name for yourself, well… That’ll be easier, since there’s nothing for us to back out of.” 

 

“What about the price for making all my custom gear?” Lance asked.

 

“You’ll just be given a bill. It’ll be a huge one, that I doubt you’ll be able to pay off any time in your life.” Coran said, somehow constantly keeping a chipper tone. “But, we won’t kill you to make up for it. You just won’t be sponsored by us and you’ll lose everything attached to your secret identity if you leave.”

 

Nodding, Lance handed the documents back to Coran. “It sounds simple enough. I don’t think I’ll just quit being a hero, so don’t count on me leaving anytime soon.” 

 

“Excellent.” Allura stood from her seat. “Now, how about we work on your power, okay? I want to see your limitations, and I want to know how far your vision goes.” 

 

***

 

Lance trained for months. Almost a full year, in fact, so that he was able to keep up with Allura in the field. Hundreds of battle simulations, hours upon hours of training his eyes and the powers connected to them, and too many late nights lying awake in frustration. Lance had finally done it. He wasn’t nearly as skilled as Allura, wasn’t nearly at her level, but he was able to go out and be a real hero.

 

Four years of being a hero, and he was stilled stunned by Allura and her powers. She’d gone and stolen his heart when he was only seventeen, and even now at twenty one years old, it only beat for her.

 

_ “Sniper, can you see me?” _ Aurora spoke over the communication line. Her voice was hushed, to make sure nothing overheard her speaking.  _ “We can’t keep letting these bank robberies happen. This should be their next target, if Coran’s mapping is correct. You don’t see anyone inside?” _

 

Laying on his stomach, on the balcony of a building easily fifty feet off the ground. The scope to his rifle allowed him to easily scan and survey the entirety of the building, and with the long training he’d gone through, was able to focus in only on the main location. “Clear as day. I only see two guards on standby near the doors that lead to the basement. They don’t look like they’re doing anything suspicious.”

 

_ “You say that, but they could suspect something. I’m going in with caution, regardless.” _ Aurora told him.  _ “Keep an eye on the streets. Let me know if you see any strange cars or people pulling up near the bank.” _

 

“Can do, Princess.” Sniper smiled behind his mask; a deep blue helmet with tinted black plexiglass covering his face, but still fixed to make it easy for him to see. He widened his field of vision just enough to see a few blocks around the bank, and easily wrote off the sparse amount of people walking up and down the street. “Nothing out of the ordinary. How’s it going?” 

 

_ “Everything seems normal. Nothing broken, all the wires are intact.” _ Aurora said, but then a soft snipping sound was heard through the comms.  _ “Now, only a few are intact. I had to disable the alarms before heading inside.” _

 

“You ever think about how, on jobs like this, we’re basically breaking and entering?” Sniper chuckled as his crosshairs moved to focus back on Aurora, watching her sneak inside. “You cut security, you picked some locks, now you’re going inside a bank that’s  _ closed _ for the weekend. I mean, really, this isn’t hero stuff.”

 

_ “Heroes have to be sneaky too, Sniper.” _ Aurora’s lovely giggle resounded through the comms, and Sniper couldn’t help but melt for a moment.  _ “Are the guards still there? They haven’t moved from the vault?” _

 

“Standing as normal. No one’s moved.” Out of the corner of his eye, however, Sniper caught sight of a van slowly rounding a corner, outside of the field of vision he allowed for himself. “Be on your toes, though. Van pulled up, turned a corner, but something doesn’t feel too Kosher about it. I’ll keep you updated.”

 

_ “Sounds good.” _ Simple reply, but Aurora was back to snooping. 

 

The goal was not only to catch the robbers in the act, but also to find some leads that Romelle had gathered. Lotor, who was the branch manager of all the robbed banks, couldn’t just be a victim in all of this. There was no way. But, they had no proof of that being the case. And, so, here Lance and Allura were. Trying to find information as well as trying to catch the perps before the police did. 

 

The fact that so little information about the robbers had come out was also suspicious. Were some officers being bribed, or perhaps even planted by whoever was running this operation? No one really knew for sure. No one seemed to be batting much of an eye about it, just assuming it would play out on its own, but Allura wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

 

Sniper hummed with interest as he saw two pairs of people approach the bank from opposite direction. “Company.” He alerted, crosshairs moving up to see Allura fussing with a computer. “The’re outside still. Just try to hurry.”

 

_ “Understood.” _

 

Amongst the sounds of Aurora’s fingers tapping on the keyboard, Sniper divided his attention as evenly as he could between the guards and two pairs of potential robbers. Two of them, one a bit larger and the other considerably smaller in size, examined the power box that Aurora had tampered with to get inside. He couldn’t hear what any of them were saying, but he could guess that the small one was telling their teammates about it.

 

The other pair began climbing a ladder on the side of the bank. It reached the roof, and Sniper watched them kneel down, perhaps to make a new game plan? “Two by the back door you went into, two on the roof.” Sniper said. “What do you want me to do?”

 

_ “Standby. I’m fine as long as they’re not inside.” _ Aurora said.  _ “Do you think they’re the robbers?” _

 

“I’m guessing so.” Sniper chuckled. “Who else would be trying to sneak into a bank in the middle of the night, aside for us?”

 

_ “Point proven.” _ She always had an amused, light tone when she smiled, and boy did it make Sniper’s heart pound.

 

“Big one opened the back door.” Sniper added. “Might wanna pick up the pace, Aurora. One of the guards are moving too.” He watched as the larger of the two on the roof popped a ventilation grate off with ease, before jumping down. “That’s now two in the building. One of the roof guys is in the office directly across from you, Aurora.

 

_ “The files are still downloading onto the flashdrive. Try and distract them.” _

 

“How do I do that from way over here?”

 

_ “You’ll figure out something, Sniper.” _

 

He rolled his eyes. “Bold of you to assume I can figure  _ anything  _ out on my own.” Sniper aimed his crosshairs at the small one by the backdoor, and fired. Only a tranquilizer round, but the sound itself would be enough to gather everyone’s attention to the back door. “Remember, you asked me to figure something out. I couldn’t hit the guy on the roof.”

 

Speaking of, the one from the roof quickly jumped down and rounded the corner to the small one. The big guy who was with them previously also rushed out in a panic, and then the guards. “Guy who came down from the vents isn’t moving. That’s the only way you can get out, unless you want to try the front doors.”

 

_ “I admire your quick thinking, but I question your methods sometimes. What if someone calls the police?” _ Aurora asked, finally pulling the thumbdrive out.

 

“Then you better hurry it up. Guards just got to the back door, three robbers are being held at gunpoint.” Sniper said, smugly. “That last guy is yours, then. You wanted info, so maybe this is your chance if you wanna risk it.”

 

***

 

Sniper was right. Aurora shoved the flashdrive into her pocket and slowly crept out of the room she was hiding in. She had to get answers about these robberies and who hired these men right from their mouths. She followed Lance’s directions, out of the room she was in and through a few others, before she ran chest-to-chest into a man only a few inches taller than herself. She drew a collapsible staff from her hip-side pouch and prepared for a fight, before recognizing the mask, the mark on the man’s chest.

 

“Atlas?” Aurora asked. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Atlas replied with a chuckle. “Trying to catch some robbers in the act of, well… robbing.” 

 

“Same here.” Aurora hummed with interest as she looked down the hall toward the back door. “Perhaps the guards realized you weren’t here to steal anything. They’re making idle chatter, it seems.”

 

Atlas turned to look, seeing two of his teammates talking to a pair of irritable and snappy guards. “Was Sniper the one who tranqed Techna?” He asked while crossing his arms. “He needs to add our comm’s radio, so he can stop doing that. This is the second time.”

 

“Sorry, Atlas, but we weren’t expecting you to bring your whole crew with you.” Aurora reasoned. “I’ll make sure our crew adds it in as a preset station. No more accidentally tranquilizing your teammates.”

 

_ “Tell Atlas that I’m sorry!” _ Sniper called over the comms.  _ “Also, Aurora, another vehicle just pulled up. Parked right at the front doors, like a bunch of idiots.” _

 

“Sniper says he’s sorry.” Aurora said, before nodding at the next statement. “Robbers are getting sloppy these days. Atlas, I’m assuming you’d be more than happy to help me apprehend them?” She smiled behind her helmet and marched right to the front doors, Atlas at her side, before a rumble under their feet halted their movements.

 

“Sniper, what was that?” Aurora asked, hurriedly.

 

_ “A door in the basement just blew up.” _ He explained.  _ “The vault is down there, Aurora. I don’t - I don’t know how I missed people going down there?” _ Sniper confusedly babbled as he tried to figure out everything that was happening in those short few moments.

 

“That’s impossible, they would have had to pass us to reach the basement door!” Aurora yelled, before both she and Atlas rushed to the locked, secured door. The guards were at their sides as well, already calling for police. “There’s no way anyone could be down there!”

 

_ “Aurora, there  _ isn’t  _ anyone down there. I don’t see a single person!” _

 

“What do you  _ mean  _ no one is down there?” Aurora’s voice was raising in pitch as she became more flustered, hands waving in the air as she shouted. She watched as Atlas turned to speak with his team regarding the situation, before finally calming down with a few deep breaths. “What should we do?”

 

Atlas turned back to Aurora, hands on his hips. “We go down there and figure out what happened.” Looking at the guards, they already were fumbling to unlock the door. “Find out if it was a pre-planted bomb that went off by mistake, or if something a little fishier is happening.”

 

“Fishy, as in?” Delta asked from beside Atlas. 

 

“Fishy, as in a metahuman.” Atlas walked toward the stairs the moment the guards got the door open, only to be met with a hard kick to his face, which knocked him on his back. “Who -” He started, attempting to scramble up with a frustrated growl.

 

A figure in a form-fitting black suit, shiny and made of strong material. His armored chestpiece had a red, glowing symbol on it, as well as the mask he wore on his face. Two little, glowing, red eye-holes peering down at Atlas as he pressed a knife against his neck. “Someone you’re not ready to handle yet.” He hissed, then disappeared from sight.

 

Atlas coughed the moment the weight on his chest lifted, then stood and glanced around in a panic. “Why didn’t anyone  _ do anything?!” _ He asked, looking at everyone in the room. “Ohhh my god…” He ran both hands over his mask, watching the guards rush to the basement. 

 

“He turns invisible. That’s why Sniper couldn’t see him, even with his power.” Aurora huffed. Sirens outside wailed moments too late, and police were making their way inside to search. “Unbelievable. I didn’t think the robbers this time would be metas.”

 

“I still want to know why no one tried to, I don’t know, grab him?” Atlas groaned, hands up in a mock-surrender. “It doesn’t matter. He probably would have still gotten away.”

 

“What now?” Sniper asked, once he jogged up to meet Aurora, as she and the other heroes were exiting the bank. “The getaway car was clearly just a distraction. It hasn’t moved at all, and the only other vehicle nearby belongs to Atlas’s team. Big fan, by the way.”

 

“You say you’re a big fan every time we run into each other.” Atlas laughed. “We’ve had enough meetings that I can safely consider you both to be trusted allies.”

 

“You flatter us.” Aurora said. “We should get back to base. See what we can figure out about a meta who can disappear out of thin air.” She sighed and gently shoved Sniper back in the direction of their getaway car. “Lovely seeing you again, Atlas and crew.”

 

“We have names.” The larger of the four said, while holding the smallest, Techna, who was knocked out by sniper’s tranquilizer. “It’s The Boulder, in case you were wondering, y’know, like from the show - oh, she isn’t listening. She’s gone. Can we leave?” He asked, turning to Delta, then to Atlas. 

 

“Yeah, head back to the van.” Atlas instructed. He hung back for a moment, glancing around with a dissatisfied grimace on his lips. “A meta who disappears out of thin air. This is ridiculous.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Depression is a bitch and also I had no idea how long this chapter was going to be until it was.... too late.... lmao...
> 
> Anyway, I was stumped on Lance's power for so long and eventually I did cut a bunch of stuff I was planning to write for him... so, I'll settle with simply describing his power as "true-sight" until I decide how wild I want to actually make it. This saves me from literally writing paragraphs of shit for his power lol.
> 
> Anyway, sorry that Hunk, Pidge, and Matt didn't really get lines...... and yes, Hunk's name is THE BOULDER because of atla. yes, his power is earth related. you can thank my friend Jake for this joke idea that I loved too much to not include. Thanks man, you a real one.
> 
> Allura's power didn't get shown really at all but I'll get into it eventually! Hers is based on light energy, but not exactly "hard light". More like beams of it? You'll see lmao
> 
> Who was the mystery boy at the end of the chapter? oooOOOoOooOoOoo!!! We'll see soon enough!!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!  
> You can find me on twitter AND tumblr @pyriphlegethons !
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Shiro has all black hair in this fic. None of the white, not even the floof! or, at least, not yet!  
> Allura and Lance will be introduced in the next chapter! Keith will also make his debut soon!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: @Pyriphlegethons  
> Tumblr (writing): Pyriphlegethons  
> Tumblr (main / multifandom): Tigatrons


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